Outcast
by fdggf
Summary: The Junkyard is all about keeping up appearances. That is why Jemima cries alone- why Demeter has not shown her face for weeks. Mungojerrie is an outcast among them, Jemima is one hope- but the Jellicles aren't content to let their love alone. Odd Couple!


**Title: Outcast  
Rating: T (may go up)  
Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, violence, dark themes e.t.c  
Disclaimer: I do not own CATS- I do not profit financially from this. End of.  
Summary: The Junkyard is all about keeping up appearances. That is why Jemima cries alone- why Demeter has not shown her face for weeks. Mungojerrie is an outcast among them, Jemima is one hope- but the Jellicles aren't content to let their love alone.**

* * *

_You would only have to watch Jemima for a few moments on her own to realise she was, in fact, quite a sad, serious kitten. Her sweet, blue eyes would shimmer and the colours would blur, but always Jemima would blink the tears back and snap out of it immediately. It was a momentary thing, like a shooting star- you were lucky to catch it, it was so rare to see. Unlike shooting stars, Jemima in tears was not a beautiful thing- though it was breath taking. Breath-taking in the sense that sometimes she looked so sad, you couldn't even begin to comprehend how she kept it hidden. Or why she had any need to be sad at all._

_She was a beautiful queen with soft, shiny red fur that slowly melted into black and white and a creamy, doll-like face. Her little cupid lips were always stretched into the prettiest of smiles and the most beautiful of sounds came from them when she sang. Moreover she was Munkustraps' daughter, instantly making her of high, respected rank in the Junkyard._

_And believe it or not, rank was very important to the Jellicles- always. Appearances had to be kept up, emotions quashed and morals held high._

_That was why Jemima cried alone._

* * *

No one had come to get him. He had left the prison with a strange mixture of apathy and hope. Because he didn't care if nobody came to greet him.

Did. Didn't. Did. Didn't. Did he?

There were two other toms in front of him- they formed a silent, orderly queue and it felt strange to him to be walking around outside his cell without cuffs around his wrists. It would be strange to have a name and to feel pavement under his feet again. He inhaled the different scents of the little prison office and sighed- the office smelt the same as the prison itself but he could smell open skies and endless possibility just past the door. It was maddening having to wait so long when all he wanted to do was run out the grimy door of the office and never look back.

He waited for a long time- the tom in front of him was angry because he didn't believe all his possessions had been returned to him '_surely it's not just these pathetic pieces here!' _and whilst he waited his thoughts roamed to less hopeful areas. He wondered if Macavity would come looking for him. The thought had visited him often as his months left inside slowly withered down to weeks and then days instead. Would he know when he was freed? Would Macavity come looking for him? Would he ask him back?

The job- that had gotten him inside in the first place- had fucked up badly and he hoped that was enough to keep Macavity off his back. Even the Napoleon of Crime had been close to capture that time. Never again- he tried telling himself it as he waited for his turn.

Never again, never again, never-

"Name." A bored looking tabby-queen with a strong, Scottish accent to her voice (it reminded him of his father and caused an instant dislike) peered down at him and consulted a battered, green clipboard the colour of slime. Her right hand rested neatly on the pile of books that made up the desk.

"Mungojerrie," he replied and waited, nervously, whilst she looked him up. He read the cover of the top book and briefly remembered the month or so Jennyanydots (his step-mother- she was okay, he supposed.) had taught him to read. '_G… Guitar… For Beginners…' _

Whatever that meant.

"Mungojerrie," the large queen nodded and fixed him with her bored, brown eyes again- even more critical this time, "do you plan to take up residence in the Jellicle Junkyard, again?"

Guilt. There that feeling went again, always twisting up his insides and trying to choke him up. He grimaced and nodded. "I hope so."

She understood and wrote it down. She had seen many young toms with dreams of going back home- often families and mates rejected them. Status is everything to a cat.

"If in the event you cannot return to your old place of residence, you are to report back here or make contact as quick as possible, understood?"

"I won't be able to," Mungojerrie started- his hands hung, stiffly by his sides. He had the air of a boy who was supposed to have grown up but hadn't- simply because he didn't know how. It often happened to toms that went to jail, young.

"Pardon?" said the queen, unused to his thick, southern accent.

"I won't be able to," he repeated, slower this time, "It's in London, y'see."

"I see." The queen raised an eyebrow and looked down at her clipboard. "Very well," (once he set a foot in London he wouldn't be their problem anyway) "sign here please, Mungojerrie and you'll be free to go."

Gripping the pen in his hands, Mungojerrie drew a wonky 'M' and then a 'J'. The queen raised her (very judgemental) eyebrows again but said nothing. She handed him a letter with his name printed on it and two burly, black toms escorted him from the prison office.

He felt strangely alone when the little door was shut behind him and gazed down at the shabby, brown envelope in his hands. In it was everything he owned- everything he had, possessed on the day of his arrest.

They had spelt his name wrong.

* * *

In a little grey den, with a grey, shabby table and grey, shabby lives to match it- a loud, calico kitten bulleted in and threw herself on a chair.

"He comes back today!" she sung, over and over in her little cockney voice with a big white grin to match it. She'd gotten up extra early because of it and her sister, Electra, still lay in bed sleeping.

"Jenny, will I be able to get his room ready, today? Please?"

Her father looked up from his paper and shot a meaningful look in his mate's direction. He was all frown and serious eyes that morning because of _that tom_ who was returning home today. If his son dared call it home that is. His plump, motherly queen made a surprised humming sound and sat next to Skimbleshanks with a very serious look on her kind, round face.

"Rumpleteaser, darling," she began with a fluttering, breathy laugh that belied her real nervous emotions, "just because Mungojerrie-" (Skimbleshanks tensed, considerably but it when unnoticed by his daughter) "is out now- it doesn't necessarily mean he'll come back to the Junkyard. There are lots of places for grown toms to go in the world."

_More like you won't let him come home. _Thought Electra, darkly, as she plodded towards the table- woken up by Rumpleteaser's incessant babbling. Honestly, she was meant to become a full-fledged adult this year.

Electra was still mad that her father hadn't let Mungojerrie come home for his coming-of-age ceremony. He was still technically a kitten in old, Jellicle tradition. She missed her half-brother, terribly sometimes. But she'd never admit it, because Mungojerrie was a forbidden subject here.

"Of course it does." Rumpleteaser frowned and looked down at her paws "I'm here. And he sent that letter telling me he'd come back for me, didn't he."

"That wasn't even his hand-writing," Skimbleshanks growled from behind his newspaper, making Rumpleteaser recoil in shock. Electra stiffened but rolled her eyes. She looked completely different to her half-siblings with dull, reddish-brown hair and an explosion of freckles across her solemn face. No one ever cared to mention it though- it was the elephant in the middle of the room. The big blatant problem no one ever chose to speak about. Electra didn't let it get to her, though. She had Jemima and Etcetera- they were her family.

"He got someone to write it for him, he says so in the letter," said Rumpleteaser, ignoring her father's comments about how he liked a 'quiet breakfast' and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. She carried it around with her everywhere. When her father refused to look at it, she offered it to Jennyanydots instead. She also refused, shaking her head, softly.

Rumpleteaser pursed her lips and looked over at Electra who sighed and took it from her (for she could read extremely well for a cat). Then clearing her throat, she began to slowly stumble through the words.

""_Dear Teaser ("_that's his nickname for me!")

_Sorry I… haven't written sooner- this is the first time I've been able to get someone to write a letter for me._

_I'm coming back for you… ("_See! He's coming back!") _As soon as I can get outta here. Be a good girl and tell Dad ("That'_s you, Dad!") _that I've changed or at least I'm trying to._

_He doesn't know how hard it is. At least you do. Also-"_

"Stop it right now, missy," her father growled and Electra stopped immediately, an angry expression souring her plain but pleasing face. Rumpleteaser's, enormous, brown eyes filled with tears. "Just stop it!"

"Skimbleshanks!" Jennyanydots hissed at her husband and smacked his arm again.

"I don't want him here, Jenny!" the normally stoic tom shouted, making her flinch back. "I don't!"

The first few tears flew down Rumpleteaser's stripy cheeks. She sniffed and made her way from the table- Electra followed, stiffly because she was sure Rumpleteaser would want her shoulder to cry on. Jennyanydots tried to call after them but neither bothered looking back.

Once in Mungojerrie's old room, Rumpleteaser threw herself on the old pile of blankets that had been his to sleep on. Electra stood gingerly looking in. She didn't dare set a foot in it, ever. It hadn't been touched at all since the day of his arrest- except when Rumpleteaser had nightmares and slept in his scent to comfort herself.

All sorts of trinkets lay about the tiny alcove- pearls, watches and even a little music box. Rumpleteaser had never questioned where Mungojerrie had got these things, knowing instantly they were stolen. She'd been thrilled when he took her (it had been the eight occasion) looting with him on the night of the Jellicle Ball. They'd been caught however- and shortly after that Mungojerrie had been arrested. Rumpleteaser had been told it was for stealing and hid most of his trinkets around her and Electra's room, but Electra knew it wasn't. You wouldn't get two years in Scotland Yard for stealing a set of spoons.

You'd get two years in Scotland Yard for murder however. Rumpleteaser didn't know that. Electra didn't want to tell her.

With a sigh, Electra slumped against the wall and uncrumpled the letter she had unknowingly crushed in her fist. She began to read where she left off.

"_Also tell Dad that I'm getting the train back. And he can come and meet me if he wants._

_I'll doubt he'll want to though Teaze. Don't you?" _her voice began to break. Rumpleteaser sat up, sniffling.

_"Anyway this tom's been writing for a fair time now, for me- so I better let him get back to his job (he's one of the guards, see)_

_I hope you're okay. And Electra. You'll both be so grown up when I get back._

_Love MJ_

"Help me sort his room out, Electra." Said Rumpleteaser, quietly. Electra relented and tried to shake away the feeling of dread that encompassed her as she stepped inside for the first time in two years.

Rumpleteaser brightened up and told her everything would go back to normal. The way it had always been.

* * *

Just outside of the concrete pipe, Pouncival found a certain, cherry-red queen sitting by herself. She wasn't doing very much, and her face was pointing down towards the ground. Her hands fiddled with little stones on the floor. They slowly stopped their task, and Pouncival wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he had seen a few _tears _hit the ground. He walked towards her, kicking up dust around his heels.

"Jemima…" he said, his voice quiet- but loud enough for her to flinch and freeze. What was _that _tom doing here? She ignored him; in the hope he would go away, wanting to be left alone. Or, at least, she didn't want to argue with him now, Jemima wasn't in the mood. "What are you doing here on your own?" He kicked a bottle cap towards her. Jemima sighed as it bounced of her back. Here came the fight.

"Well, I was enjoying the quiet, you know, but obviously not anymore!" She spat, covering up her sadness with hostility and anger- so unlike her. But there was no way she'd let Pouncival see her cry. He would only make fun of her. In fact, Jemima didn't dare cry in front of anyone- her friends would worry too much; Tumblebrutus would kick up a fuss… Besides, kittens her age weren't supposed to cry.

But then again, her mother cried and she was fully-grown.

_"Mummy cries because she's very, very sad," said Munkustrap to Jemima who sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Grown-up cats only cry when they're very sad, so stop crying now, do you hear? You're fast becoming a grown-up now."_

_She sniffed again. "Yessir."_

Thinking of her mother, Jemima felt another wave of tears come on but quickly fought them off by screwing up her eyes and shaking her head. Pouncival was still there, staring at her.

"What do you want?" She hissed, her ears flattening to her skull.

Pouncival looked surprised and a tiny bit hurt but then he got angry and growled at her.

"Fine! I don't give a flying crap about what you're doing anyway! The important thing is I found you." He yelled back, eliciting a look of confusion from Jemima. Why was Pouncival looking for her? It was obvious where Electra and Etcetera were, the centre of Admetus' and Alonzo's attentions. Neither knew the other very well and they had often fought when younger. Recently, Jemima and Pouncival had been getting along, which probably explained the surprised and hurt look upon Pouncival's face.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"Jenny wants to talk to you," said Pouncival, shrugging. "C'mon." He turned around and began to walk away- through the concrete pipe. It was obvious to him that she had been crying and he gave her a few moments to regain herself. Jemima sighed and wiped her eyes, wearily. She followed him to Jennyanydots' den, thankful Etcetera and her two, new tom-friends had not noticed her. Pouncival watched as Alonzo put an arm around Etcetera and said something that made her laugh- his brow furrowed and he quickly looked to the floor, pouting.

"He's got Cassandra, anyway." Said Jemima, from behind him. She got a look of confusion from him- probably at her sudden friendly tone and then a nod.

"Alonzo's a… twat."

Jemima nodded, earnestly, in agreement, though she blushed at the word. Bad language was looked down upon extremely in the Junkyard- unless you were fond of an angry Jennyanydots-, which Pouncival was. The queen was a second mother to him and often let him get away with his pranks, whereas his real mother would scold him.

"…Sorry for being so rude." Jemima murmured as they reached the old car. The boot had been hollowed out and so had the bottom of the car and the space underneath it- creating a very cosy den for, Jennyanydots, Skimbleshanks and their two kittens, Rumpleteaser and Electra.

The two of them paused and Pouncival suddenly recalled the other young tom that had used to live there before he had suddenly disappeared. Mungojerrie wasn't it? Rumpleteaser always said her brother would come back. Pouncival wasn't so sure.

He realised Jemima was looking at him, funny. Waiting for a reply.

What had she said again? It felt too rude to ask her.

"Whatever," Pouncival shrugged, nonchalantly. "I'll leave you to meet your doom, yeah?"

Jemima's heart jumped- was she in trouble? She wanted to call out and ask Pouncival as he swaggered away in his best imitation of 'The Tugger' but felt she had bothered him enough that day.

She knocked, warily, on the boot and bit her lip as it opened.

Skimbleshanks wasn't there- but Jemima didn't care too much about that, as she knew where he would be- at the train station, of course. She was more worried about the tearful look on Jennyanydots' face.

"Jenny?" She began softly- staring at the broken teapot on the breakfast table. Next to it was a completely untouched breakfast and a soaking wet newspaper.

The old queen looked up with a sad, meek expression in her eyes. It disappeared immediately and she stood up, grinning. It scared Jemima, slightly- but she didn't back away as the queen leapt forwards and pulled her into a big, warm hug.

"Demeter said you'd be staying here tonight, dear," she said and finally let go of the kitten that was struggling to breath. "But I'm not sure it's such a good idea."

Jemima started at the sound of her mother's name and felt her eyes begin to prickle with fresh, hot tears. She blinked them away, coolly and looked back up at the concerned queen- who was more of a mother than Demeter had ever been.

"It's against my better judgement," said Jennyanydots and then leaned forwards in a conspiratorial whisper- "_Mungojerrie… _might be coming home tonight."

"Mungojerrie?" Jemima tried to place the tom in her head and remembered a tall, calico kitten that had looked almost exactly like his sister. "Is he…" she saw the pained expression on Jenny's face but continued in her delicate voice. "Is he coming home, for definite, then?"

Jennyanydots paused and remembered the way Jemima had used to follow her son around- bullied by the other toms because of her small, shy ways and often overshadowed by the more graceful Victoria and loud Etcetera. He never seemed to notice- or mind- much and was of the opinion that Rumpleteaser and her were simply good friends.

"We'll find out tonight, won't we." Jenny smiled and began to steer Jemima around the mess of a kitchen, "never mind the teapot, dear, just go find Electra and Rumpleteaser. They're waiting for you."

* * *

**Reviews greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading, dearies :')**


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